


Healing

by Bbeccababe



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Healing, Magical Realism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bbeccababe/pseuds/Bbeccababe
Summary: A long long time ago, before our story starts, people began to manipulate the world around them in interesting ways. A new power flodded their veins, allowing them to mend and shape flesh as needed.Now those people are in danger, being hunted by the country that swore to protect them.





	Healing

heal·er

ˈhēlər/

noun

noun: healer; plural noun: healers

a person who claims to be able to cure a disease or injury using special powers."a spiritual healer and medium"a person or thing that mends or repairs something."aloe vera is a superb healer of the alimentary canal"something that alleviates a person's distress or anguish."time is the best healer"

The healers of the Oria Nation have been around for billions of years, dating back to before the wheel was invented. Living for at least ten thousand years, children that presented with the healing powers were schooled for several hundreds of years before being allowed to heal on their own. Young present very early on in life, almost three weeks after being born many show signs of controlling the elements. The world around them shifts with random bursts of air, spikes of fire coming from candles, water tumbling out of glasses or even floating in the air, are just a few signs Healers show.  The population of healers began to rapidly grow once people realized just how powerful healers are. Many coveted healers including the Emperor of Oria. Emperor Hichia was the thirty-fifth emperor of Oria was one of the few emperors that fought for the rights of Healers and even brought them to the table. Both Hichia and his daughter held full council of just Healers, keeping them close as advisers till the days they died.  At the height and prime of the nation there were thousands of healers in every area and people from all nations flooded in to be healed and business was booming. It seemed that Oria and its people were becoming all powerful, but what comes up must go down. With the rise of Emperor Ujia came the fall of the nation. As one of the few that didn’t present with the gifts, Ujia absolutely hated healers with all his being and as soon as he came to power he had his father’s entire court of healers murdered. A massacre began on the healers and continued until after Ujia’s death, forcing the surviving few into hidden temples. To keep their young safe, many elders stayed behind, sending with the young their books and knowledge, allowing many to sneak away without being discovered.

The empty stone cavern is filled with healers at all times. They crowd their chosen areas as they have for the thousands of years they have been alive. The stone cavern is full of people sitting next to, in front of, and behind the healers as they work. It’s people of all ages, genders, and walks of life that sit on the smooth granite floor, carved out by a bender long ago before the royals came.

I oversee the whole room  from a cleft up in the ceiling, hundreds of feet below me I watch a relatively young healer, only two hundred years old,  pull water up as she makes a rectangle of the granite fall to make a pool. Her choice is unusual, far different from what I’ve seen in centuries past. Her patient pulls off their clothes and steps into the pool, a visible shake going through them, the water is cold and there is no room to be shy when your health is at stake. She gestures for them to lay down and they do. The water shimmers as it surges forwards, encasing the patient’s limbs, pulling every part of their body but their face under the water. They are lucky, a smile graces my lips, I have known many healers who have submerged their patients whole when doing something similar. She is gentle, her movements are slow and languid, arms pulling up and dropping back down. Like many She stays seated on her pad, only using the upper half of her body to control the elements. There’s a slight sway to her body, hips seated firmly but body waving like tree branches in the wind, a dance to a breeze that only she feels, truly she is like no one else. Talk travels fast around here and many say she can use only her mind and a connection the the earth to manipulate the ground around her. The way she heals with such ease is unique, the drain on her energy is not as prevalent as in other healers,it doesn’t drag her down like the rest of us.  I love to watch this particular healer, she has no memory of her name or her training, an accident that happened when she was but a child, a mere hundred years ago. But, she was given a name before she came to us, the ones who showed her the temple calling her “Nomo” after her not knowing any more than her healing. Her movements are graceful and refined, her mind may not remember but her body does.

 A sharp movement catches my eye to the side, a spike of flame coming from an old friend, it's tips tinged green with his own personal flare. He loves to heal with flame, an odd choice to many considering it's touchy and hard to control. Everyone has their own styles of controlling the elements but Kyre’s is the sharpest. He is among the oldest of our kind, reaching his four thousands in just a hundred or so years, still just reaching his prime. Watching his work is like watching at beautiful battle, his hands are swift and precise, folding over themselves in intricate patterns. I can’t see his patient but I know they’re asleep, far easier to heal with something seen as destructive if they aren’t awake to screw it up. Right now he’s working on a patient that’s had a blood infection for the past few weeks, trying to burn it out of the man’s system without actually burning him. Normally, healers work on their own, never sharing cases or patients unless absolutely necessary. Now, Kyre is by no means a weak healer, he’s been around the block more than a few hundred times, he knows what he’s doing; but with the amount of focus on his control of the flame there was no energy left to soothe and calm and keep the patient under and feeling no pain. The male working with Kyre was left on his doorstep in the middle of the night that has grown into a beautiful healer and the only reason Kyre moved back into the temple a few thousand years ago. Their father and son dynamic is breathtakingly beautiful, showing how it's okay to rely on other healers, that we as a people can move on from our previous hidden lifestyle. Amaryllis has always been talented but now that he’s reaching his two thousandth year it’s really starting to show. Leaning across the stone rail I watch the two work. Kyre is a brightstorm of movements that paint the wall nearby with green and yellow, swirling the colors and flames around in a cocoon around the male and Amaryllis. If it was any other pair the task might have been too strenuous or even dangerous to attempt with all the flame going around not even including the risky job that Amaryllis was performing. It took quite a  bit of shifting around to see him clearly but the younger was sitting on the ground, legs folded and under his body as he leaned towards the male he’s working on. Squinting more, it’s clear to see that his long auburn hair has been tied into a low bun, knot secured tightly with a black band of cloth flowing down his back. Normally when we heal the clothes worn by healers are loose clothes, long sleeved and flowy with long loose pants tucked into cloth boots, allowing our bodies to move freely. And, although the free movement might help these two, safety is a priority. Kyre was allowed to wear his normal robes, the dark forest greens covering him and complementing his short dusty brown hair and vibrant fire. Despite the looseness of all his clothes and the clear favoritism of all other healers the ‘elder’  always cropped his hair short, getting it cut at the end of every month. It was a funny sight to see, Kyre next to Amaryllis , the two looking like polar opposites. Dressed in dark reds his clothes are skin tight to avoid them accidentally moving into the fire. He didn’t even have sleeves, the thick cloth cutting off an inch or two across his shoulders. All cloths were long enough to be tucked into each other, high waisted wraps allowing his tunic to be tucked in carefully and his thick leather boots went up to mid calf just incase. This all seems so silly to many that have stopped to watch, learning all they can from a master and his protege, many muttering about how the tight clothes were excessive with the blanket of water covering him like a cloak as he hovered by the patient's pool, rocking the glowing teal liquid around and moving it up to creep up Amaryllis’ body like vines, traveling in a slow loop over to the man hovering over the pool with fire swirling around him. As if the two couldn’t get any more polar opposite the elder refused to take his eyes off of his patient while the younger had his eyes shut in focus.  It would have to stop soon, Amaryllis was obviously shaking from the force of him both keeping the patient from being cooked and moving infected blood up to have the illness burned out. I need to keep a close eye on those two, even Kyre looks like he needs rest but my biggest worry is his son.

Pulling away from the railing I took one more glance around the room while I could still see everyone, checking to see if anyone needs help before I go interviene. Everyone else seemed to be doing quite alright, moving on with their patients while glancing over at the two doing probably the most dangerous operation they’ve ever seen. Giving a short nod I wave one of the other elders over, letting them take my place watching over the cavern as I descend the steps carved into wall. Amaryllis needs a break and Kyre needs to work with someone he trusts, this needs to be over soon.

As soon as my feet hit the ground floor the crown dispersed, stepping back from the sight in front of them with worried looks like they’re going to be scolded. And they are… “Everyone go attend to your patients, give these two their space.” I’ve had years of practice using a strict tone but, still, every time I use that tone I get worried no one will take me seriously. But, they do. Leaving quickly many bow to me and then to the two working even though they know they will get no reply. It’s a beautiful show of respect and trust, lowering your body closer to the elements puts you at the mercy of an potentially angry healer. Still, I have no qualms with these people raising my posture and bow right back, showing them my trust.  

As they leave an idea comes to mind and I quickly grabbed the arm of a healer near by. “Grab Nomo and send her over here. I want you to cover for her and finish working on her patient.” The girl nodded before walking off with a dazed and confused look in her eyes, looking amusingly confused. After turning away from her I watch Amaryllis begin to shake harder, a visible tremor shaking his body and the teal liquid traveling up to the patient.

        “I was told you needed me?” Nomo had appeared quickly, dusting dirt off her loose pants. She’s always been good on time and coming quickly when called.

        “Yes, child. Quickly prepare a healing pool for Amaryllis, he won’t last long.” She nods quickly, moving a few feet over. Nomo doesn’t bow and while I don’t care a few scornful whispers and gasps flit over, earning a roll of her eyes. I can’t help but chuckle as I drop my cloak, admiring her attitude and spark. It’s something uncommon around here. Taking a deep breath I smooth over my tunic, dark and sleeveless like Amaryllis’. It’s tucked into flowy pants, high boots keeping everything together. Slowly, I walk over to the young male seated on the floor, keeping quite so as to avoid shaking his focus.

        The teal liquid pooling around the healer’s black boots gently surges towards me, tugging gently on strings invisible to the eye. It spirals ever gently so, winding up to my fingers, outstretched like vines winding up.  Cold fills my body at the touch of the liquid as it winds up my hands, webbing out and creeping up my body.

        It becomes very clear that my mind has connected to the patient’s mind, memories of the past few days flit through this man’s eyes. Images come and go, showing a hut and a young woman hovering over him with an antsy look on her face. His mind is focused on these memories as he sleeps, Amaryllis keeping him under well. Speaking of the young healer, his presence is there but faint, he won’t hold on for long. Careful practice and training has taught me how to push my consciousness into the patient’s without causing harm to either of us, allowing myself to gauge the problem or even keep the patient out of pain and sleeping.   Amaryllis was trained in the same art, his specialty being healing through the mind, piecing back someone’s sanity.

        Pulling back just slightly so I could speak, I do my damnedest to keep Amaryllis afloat lending him my energy. “Nomo.” My eyes are closed and my voice is soft but I know she hears my call. There’s a slight shuffle, an intake of air and a slosh of water.

        “Yes, ma’am?” She too keeps her voice soft, knowing that disrupting anyone with loud noises would cause one of the other elders to throw a fit.

        “When he wakes, immediately start to heal him. Amaryllis is far too weak to do anything else for the day.” The liquid surges over me again, the cool feeling spider-webbing up my neck. Back down the lines of magic my being flows, gently diverging away from the flow that would lead me to the patient’s mind, instead connecting to the one that does not seem to belong.

        The flow tugs me into Amaryllis’ mind, pain creeping up the base of his spine as if it's my own. It’s a dull throb that sears into his mind, like he’s gotten too close to a fire. His total lack of energy is slightly unnerving, the heavy fog at the back of his mind giving the idea that he might have stayed up late last night. He shouldn’t have. He can’t have been that stupid. Still… I keep going, trudging through the thick fog of his mind as he slips further to sleep.

        Slowly I wedge myself between his mind and the patient’s, cutting off the flow of Amaryllis’ essence and replacing it with my own. I can feel the strings snap, the gentle tug and pull in the back of my head creating a tension before it breaks. His awareness slips away and briefly, through his mind and one of the last few strings I see him fall and hit the floor before the last string snaps. All there is now is the patient before me, floating over the water as I drag the heat out of his body, pulling the infection with it. I take a few seconds to get into the rhythm of this task before moving on to keeping his mind under, blocking off his pain receptors keeping his mind producing melatonin. Alone these tasks are easy but putting them all together is tricky, but together they become tricky and tedious, having to keep all of them running at once. Amaryllis is truly a strong healer to have done this and he will only get stronger. The patient struggles under the heat, even asleep his mind recognises the danger of Kyre’s fire. Truly we could stop soon even though I just started, the infection and illness in his body almost gone, they’ve done well.

A splash of water up into Kyre’s fire shows that they’re almost done. His ring of fire compresses tighter, moving closer to burn out the rest as I increase the flow of cold water,  raising my hands to move his infected  blood up to the fire to be cleansed, the fire just the right temperature to kill the infection but not his cells. A dangerous balance. We work in tandem, his hands rising as mine fall, pulling and tugging like two different tides in the ocean. What feels like hours pass by as we work, sweat forming on my brow runs down my cheeks. It stings my eyes, blurring my vision and daring to drag me away from my work.

It takes around two hours to fully cleanse the patient in Amaryllis’ place, the patient’s body trembling from the strain. With one more splash of water Kyre lets his fire disappear,the teal liquid flowing from myself to the patient begins to cradle the patient’s body, wrapping around him gently before he’s laid back in the pool for recovery.

Free for a few seconds, I give a shrug looking over at Kyre to make sure he’s okay.  The elder heaves, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his breath. There’s a passing thought in my mind that I should check on him when another healer steps up behind him.  It’s the thick dreads braided and pulled up into a bun high on his head that give him away, the male walking out the the shadows and up to Kyre like he owns the room, they have that in common.

Juniper’s swagger style walk isn’t covered up by his thin robs, his walk full of confidence as people step out of his way. His light green sheer robe allows for proper movement and covers up the stains on his white shirt, dirt and mud smudged across the bottom of his shirt, above where it’s tucked into his pants.

I can’t help but smile at the grin on his face, oh how evil he can be. Creeping up on Kyre the male hunched low, relying on how tired he was to get close. These two always played around with each other, the two quickly becoming friends when Kyre moved into the temple with baby Amaryllis. Ever since I hardly see the two without each other, Juniper and Kyre working together to raise the small tornado that became the reserved healer that is Amaryllis.  It’s funny to see Juniper creep across the floor, his tall build not meant to be hunched up and so low to the ground. My hand comes up to my mouth, cutting off a snort when the green clad healer sends me a sharp look. His hands touch the earth below him, fingers outstretched on the dusty floor with one knee pressed to the floor and the other meeting his chest with his foot planted firmly beneath him.

Vines sprout from the floor about two inches in front of Junipers fingers, the green shoots a stark difference from his dark skin. The vines wind up his arms, starting at his fingers and crawling up his arms. The shoots start off thick before spreading out in small winding vines, encasing his upper arms in plant life. It looks like they’re growing out of his skin, creeping up over his shirt and winding around his neck, a few vines somehow peeking out from under his shirt. Growing still, the vines wind around his neck framing his face. When the shoots are done winding around Juniper the original vines branch off and creep the last few inches before growing up sharply, growing about around five feet high before stopping. A thick vine shoots out  from the side growing out over Kyre’s head only just enough before a thinner more flexible vine grows out just under it, wrapping tightly again and again over the thicker shoot, cutting off the branch causing it to fall onto the half asleep healer’s head.

Shrieking, Kyre stood up sharply his foot shooting out to kick the plant, Juniper flinching from damage to the plant’s he’s connected to. One only knows how her was able to cut off a whole limb earlier. The two of us burst out  laughing, the force of my laugh rocking my body back. “Pay attention to your patient, you mongrel!” Kyre’s anger immediately turning on me, the grumpy healer turning his anger on me because everyone knows he can’t stay angry at Juniper and the smirk on Juniper’s face says that he’s thinking the same thing too.

I can’t help but huffing loudly, rocking the water in the pool gently before flicking some at Kyre. “Screw you old man!”

“Old? I’m hardly old! You of all people should know the texts, Elder.” Kyre smirks at me before he gets hit in the face with a ball of water. His look drops immediately, another bursts of giggles coming from Juniper, his vine tree mix of a plant  wilting before the earth eats it up with a tiny wince on his face.

“We both know I only got that title because I’m the best healer here.” The snark comes out quickly and both Juniper and Kyre glare at me. “Oh, and I am the most responsible, heathens.” A soft snort comes from Nomo and it's my turn to glare, attempting to give her a good scolding look even though all I can see is seemingly miles of thick, wavy dark brown hair hiding her face but I could practically hear her smirk. “Quiet child,” It’s a teasing tone, she knows I care and think so much more of her. “Pay attention to your patient.”

Another snort comes from her, shoulders jolting slightly causing the curtain of hair to shift showing her lips quirked up in a smirk. “Yes… Elder.”

A roaring laugh comes from the two healers on the other side of me, normally kind, wise eyes mocking but their smiles reached their eyes. Kyre was keeled over, hands on his knees laughing while Juniper beat on the floor, wheezing at Nomo talking back.

“Yeah, Elder.” Juniper continued the teasing laughing loudly as more little flora pop up under his fingers. “You’re so old that you know all the books.”

        “Because studying the books is a bad thing, Juniper.” My retort is quick and sharp, nose wrinkling as Kyre attempts to catch his breath. I catch the quick little frown that appears on Junipers face before I splash more water on the two of them, shock wiping the look off his face.

        “What was that about being the most responsible, Elder?” He was quick to huff standing up before I smirk at him.

        “Kyre, did you forget the fact that Juniper dropped a  branch on your head?” A scared look appears on Juniper’s face and he glances up at Kyre who has just turned sharply to look at him. There’s a clear sharp inhale that comes from Juniper, the male sinking closer to the ground as he raises his hands up, palms to the air.

        Juniper scrambles back, tripping over his feet in an attempt to back away from Kyre. There’s mumbled apologies that grow frantic when Kyre picks up the branch that was dropped on his head. “Jun.” He stumbles back further when a spark of flame ignites the end, Kyre’s voice low and slow as he takes a step forwards. “ I’ll give you one chance to prove that this wasn’t you.”

        We all know it was him. Juniper knows that it was him. Kyre knows that it was him. It’ll be interesting to see how he’ll attempt to prove his innocence. It’s clear that Juniper has no idea what he’s going to do either judging by the look on his face. “Uh, It just wasn’t?” Kyre nods, fidgeting with the branch in his hand, a low hum coming from deep in his chest. “Re, please.”

        “Somehow,” As Kyre speaks I see a few sparks flare behind Juniper, gently messing with the dark healer’s sheer over coat. It seems like Kyre is taking one out of Juniper’s book by keeping him distracted and then scaring him. “I just don’t believe you.” There’s something scary about the way his lips twist up into a cruel smirk. Everyone in the area sits back to watch, including Nomo as she keeps the water around Amaryllis moving; sloshing around as he sleeps.

        “Re, please.” Juniper’s overly dramatic plea bounces off of the soft stone under our feet and he makes an attempt at stopping the other healer by dropping the floor around him, sinking himself three feet into the ground. Nomo chortles, shaking softly enough that Amaryllis wakes up, a dazed look on his face as he blinks before sitting up. “Think of the children. What would Amaryllis think if you killed one of the people that raised him?”

        A snort comes from the flower like boy trying to wring water out of his tunic with a grimace on his face while Nomo pushes a gentle breeze through the loose wet locks of his hair, drying it slowly. The two bickering healers don’t notice that their sort-of-adopted son has woken up and is watching them fight. Amaryllis begins to shiver, fingers shaking as he reaches down to just pull his tunic off, the deep red fabric almost black and sticking to his skin from how heavy and laden with water it was. A wet thud echos in the air when he throws the heavy fabric onto the polished floor, hardly covered by the chatter and movement of the other healers in the room as Kyre and Juniper continue to argue.

        “I raised him! You just ate our snacks!” Kyre points his finger at Juniper, finally the sparks behind the green clad healer catching flame; quickly eating through the sheer overcoat and catching onto the thicker cloth of his pants and even the hem of his tunic.

“You know I love snickerdo- Ah! AH! fIRE!!!” Juniper takes off launching off his knees and sprinting through the crowd of working healers, somehow forgetting not only that he was surrounded by pools of fire ending water but also that, while admittedly bad with it, he has some has some control of fire even if he was nowhere close to the same skill level as Kyre.

Amaryllis scoffed loudly at the healer’s actions, rolling his eyes fondly at the overgrown children that raised him as Kyre ran after Juniper; his barked out laughs echoing while he attempts to put the fire out. “I hope they never grow up.”

“Me either.”

Nomo stands after she speaks, waving a gentle hand at a the wall nearest to make the hidden panel slide down revealing an alcove of thick towel like blankets. Quickly she snags one while I deepen a pit in the floor, snatching a few branches from a pile by the wall and arranging them in the bowl shaped dip in the floor.  She slung the blanket over his shoulders, his hands grabbing the ends as he tries to warm up.  Pulling a spike up out of the ground I break the tip off, pushing gentle pulses of energy out of my hands to roll it into an egg shape. It’s funny to see how Amaryllis and Nomo watch every move I make, as if they themselves could not do the same things. There’s a small smile on my face, hidden from the two watching because of the angle at which my head was tipped. The two fidgeted and shifted closer, watching intently as I pull the egg shape tighter in on itself as it begins to superheat and glow red; smoking slightly before I move it into the dip in the floor, setting it on the bed of twigs and branches before it  begins to smoke, slowly catching flame.

Grunting I dust off my knees, standing up while Nomo guides Amaryllis to the starting fire; the two huddling together while Nomo guides a delicate hand across his back in an attempt to bring warmth back into him. “Clean your work space when you can, I’m going to go check up on everyone else.” With a wave of a hand the spike sinks into the floor, returning to the smooth flat texture it was before.


End file.
